Of Muls & Minotaurs
by Jonny Omega
Summary: Gnome artificer Vivianne Walsap never expected her magical/scientific exploits would have her become the den mother of such a motley crew. A tale of gladiators, science and high adventure.
1. Chapter 1 - The Guests

Disclaimer: All rights and properties there in of Dungeons and Dragons belongs to Wizards of the Coast…this is just for fun.

-Chapter 1-

The Guests

She wasn't his mother, nor did she ever plan nor want to be the caretaker of such a child. Though Vivianne Walsap was the sort of gnome whose own curiosity would often plant her in a mountain of trouble. Which was why the life of artificer always attracted her. Indeed she had learned though her years to use her magic in a purely scientific way. To craft and to build; to create what others would often tell her were often impossible.

Looking back Vivianne knew it was this same prideful stubbornness that had brought the child to her door. She remembered it was midwinter when it began.

* * *

Walsap, who often found solace alone or in her studies away from the hustle and bustle of large gnomish clans, had finally swept the dust and cobwebs from her seedtime lab. She called it such for her experiments in that particular hollowed hill dealt with enchanting seeds, fertilizer, water and anything that could possibly be involved with harvesting for the coming spring.

Nestled along the popular road known as the moonsea ride, and at the young are of fifty two, Vivianne's name had become admired from traveling farmers from Cormyr and Moonsea for her wares. Indeed many successful growers invoked the name of eccentric little woman in their success, whilst some would curse their own ignorance for not buying some of her enchanted farm goods. Though the mysterious duo that knocked on her wide wooden front door that snowy evening where not there for potent manure.

"Hello?!" The call from the locked entry came during a slightly volatile experiment involving tripling the amount of tobacco leaves per grown stalk.

It was only then whilst the young woman looked up from her studies that she noticed the biting cold that had engulfed the entire homestead. As the knocking persisted the small artificer took up a fir from a nearby rack and moved to meet the unexpected guests. Though a cloudy bit of glass from one of her many empty potion bottles distracted her with her own disheveled reflection.

Fair locks frizzed out almost at every angle on top of her coppery freckled head. She had to pull the glass protective goggles off her slim soot smudged face to even see her icy blue eyes as her tongue filled the small gap in the two front teeth in the roof of her mouth. A reflex that she picked up when she was nervous. The intensified racket at the door reminded her exactly why she was so tense.

"Hello we've journeyed far, we're looking for a Woolsyrup?!" One would think such a well-traveled name would be easier for someone to remember.

"Woolsyrup please!" The cry came again as a small hand yanked open the smaller door handle.

"Walsap! It's Walsap!" Vivianne threw caution to the wind in the prideful display.

There was no way for her to know whether the voice belonged to a thief in the night whose intention was to steal her secrets, or some human slave of a group bloodthirsty gnoll sent to lure the owner of the burrow to their doom. Quite unexpectedly though there in the hefty snowfall stood two figures, one much taller than herself. He was a human, Vivianne could see that even with his hood over his face. His features weren't sharp enough to make him any sort of elven nor were there any distinguishing marks of any wild race. Shabby winter ware gave him the obvious appearance of a commoner.

His companion however was heavily concealed in a mass of thick, expensive furs. It, unlike the larger human cohort was only about a half foot taller than the hostess. The heavy cloaks prevented any other noticeable distinctions, and that made Vivianne uneasy. She now began to regret not airing on the side of restrain when flinging open the door to her inner sanctum.

"Apologies for my companion, we have indeed traveled far." The gruff yet feminine voice filtered through the fir coverings of the smaller humanoid. "We are in desperate need of you council...madam Walsap." There was a moment of thick silence, clearly Vivianne needed more.

A muffled sigh came from the small woman on the snowy doorstep as she hefted the well insulated garments from her head. Her rounded, dwarven face was flushed with the sudden introduction to the cold. Murky blue eyes stared back into the Halfling's icy orbs before the stranger motioned to her collar. The golden sigil brought new light the woman's origin. She was high born, a noble of a upper-class family…a rich family.

"Ma' lady." Vivianne wisely bowed her formal greetings and moved aside to let her guests share the shelter of her home.

"I'm afraid it is my turn for apologies ma' lady, Vivianne Walsap at your service." The door shut out the wind behind the duo as they quickly shucked their soaked outer ware and hung them to dry on the coat rack beside the entry.

"Davian Pegason, at yours madam artificer." It was then when the human returned her gesture that she noticed the longbow and quiver of arrows strapped to his back.

In the candlelight many more secrets came forth from the visitor's appearances. Long and matted the dark hair of the human's beard and hair covered his bronze skin. His once hard silver eyes now softened in the warmth of the hearth. Tanned leather of several animals stamped the man a ranger in Vivianne's mind. The dwarf however stood and carried herself like that of a soldier who had seen the frontlines of battle with naught but a sword and a prayer more than thrice. Light brown hair curled thickly around the noble's face and like the rest of her was adorned with gold trinkets and accessories. One such gold ringed hand was casually pushed into view for the artificer.

"And may I present Lady Araatis, of the clan Warstout." The human spoke for the Dwarf, and without further persuasion Vivianne took the decorated hand and brought her head down to it, for respects were expected.

"I wasn't aware my farming wares were sought after by the high dwarf lords." Vivanne came upright once more and with a crash cleared a nearby table of charts and measurements so the three might sit, which they did.

"It is not your seeds we seek madam artificer." Finally the dwarf spoke again "Many a good word has come of your talents for crossbreeding of certain crops." She paused, leaning into the table to come closer.

"Have you bred anything other plants Walsap?" The look Vivianne held could only be described as confusion.

"Mares? Hunting dogs?"

"Cattle? Homing pigeons?"

"Have you attended any sort of birthing?" Each of the two traded futile queries, hoping for some progress.

The artificer saw the looks of hopelessness in their eyes, she was not the first person the couple had implored with such a topic. Couple? Couple?! Her eye looked to the hands intertwined on the far side of the table. What scandal had found its way into the young Gnome's home, what scandal indeed! She needed not to hear of the lover's story. All that was needed to know was a low born human sought to be with a Dwarven aristocrat. Oh Walsap was quite good at fitting the pieces together, she prided herself on the skill. The realization had Vivianne reeling out of her chair and pushing herself away from the two.

Thoughts of her own demise brought on by the couple raced through her mind. Had they eloped already? Where they on the run, incriminating the gnome in their urge to seek her out? Would dwarven suitors or angered brethren be chopping down the front door at any moment? In the midst of her wild theories Davian had already come the fallen gnome's aid. A firm grip and a tender expression soothed Vivianne slightly and allowed back to her feet. Her glance lingered on the human's kind face, for she caught a glimpse of how Ariaatis could have fallen for the man.

Unfortunately, it wasn't the only thing she saw as she rose. For Ariaatis had also stood in response of the spectacle and there in the soft candlelight she saw it. The struggle to stay on her feet one hand clutched her round stomach. A future mother's full belly, the firs must have hidden it from view before. So the deed had already been done, but that left the question of why they needed Vivianne. Then as the gnome nearly gave in to another fit of panic as the mother to be took her hand from her belly to a bag on her belt. She tossed the leather pouch on the table only to have it spill open with gold and precious gems flowing onto the surface.

"Please Madam Artificer…" Her plea was quite genuine. "We have heard the stories of Mul birth, I do not wish to be taken from this world just as my child is coming into it."

To say that the bag's precious contents hadn't set a fire in Vivianne would undoubtedly be a lie. Her mouth hung slightly agape as she stared transfixed at gold and gems. The money had tipped the scales in the young couple's favor as many fearful thoughts began to disintegrate in the gnomes newly calmed mind. That is to say until the loud pounding came from the door once again. It was a knock that said if the door wasn't opened by hand, a boot heel would do just as well.

All color drained from Walsap's face as she faced the closed door, with the uninvited guest behind it. She looked to the other two at the table only to find that their expression was much like her own. They feared the implications this unknown caller might bring. Vivianne regained her senses and brought a single finger to her lips to keep them quiet. Then she quickly scooped up the pouch and its spilled contents from the table and handed it back to the dwarf.

The knocking intensified the couple was ushered to the back of the home to a storage closet. It was quite full of trinkets and unfinished experiments, but there was still plenty of room for Davain and Ariaatis. Once again Walsap brought her finger to her lips as she slowly began to shut the closet door. The hammering at that came from the front entry had reached a climax. It sounded as though the person might bring down the door at any moment.

Then just as she had turned to make her way away from the closet there were two staccato raps against wood and then silence. Confusion and a fear still threatened to engulf the artificer as she turned to see the closet door slightly ajar. Davian's eye could be seen in the slit as he attempted to get a good look at what was going on. Vivianne merely signaled for him to stay put with her hand as she silently made it to the front foyer.

Vivanne swallowed loudly as she took the doorknob in her small hand and turned it as slowly as she could. The heavy door seemed heavier as she pulled it open to the awaiting cold snow fall that still pelted the wilds beyond. It was then she saw the extra weight. A human, dressed in guardsman garb, one of the militia who often patrolled moonsea run from bandits and other brigands. Two black arrows stuck from the leather and scale armor on his back, the sharp heads had driven deep and pinned the man to the door. Blood began to pool on the front stoop as her eyes traveled the humans cut face. Thin but deep gashes riddled the once unmarred cheeks of the solider.

Confliction warred inside Vivianne as she knew she should slam the door and barricade it from this new threat. Yet she also knew that she needed to know exactly what was coming. Small eyes strained to see in the dark and whirling snowfall. Though as they adjusted they began to make out several figures in the distance. What they were was a mystery until the mass slowly made it thought the dark. Long white hair blew about their dark faces and many had drawn long thin blades.

Acting quickly the gnome closed the door as two more black arrows pelted the wood where she once stood. There were no dwarven nobles come to collect their wayward sibling, nor we here they human puritans coming to ostracize the ranger. In fact, it was much worse than either. There was no reason to be quiet now. Vivianne flew open the door to the hiding place that held her anxious patrons.

"What is it, who's out there?" Ariaatis took note of the gnome's paled face. The answer though, was one none them wanted to hear.

"Drow…"

Wooden shrapnel flung few from the door as the dark elves forced their way through with swinging scimitars. There was no time to make any sort of plan of defense against these drow, they were not here to barter terms. It seemed though that Davian and Ariaatis were well away of the fact as one of human ranger's arrows found its mark in a drow forehead. Another arrow was already drawn back in the rangers bow and released, this time into the shoulder of one of the dark elves.

An animalistic roar came from Ariaatis as she drew her ugrosh from its sheath and, despite her full stomach, charged into the fray. Shouts of protest from her lover only fueled her furry as she pinned the neck of one dark elf to a wall with the curve of the axe head of her weapon and speared another with the opposite spike end. Then swiftly dispatched the pinned elf before rushing forward again.

Vivianne wished she had the time to enchant the weaponry her comrade wielded, but they held their own without them. However as more of the enemy poured though the fractured doorway the tide quickly began to turn against the duo. The gnome quickly retreated as two drow set their crimson eyes upon her. Her hand found a sickle she had enchanted to slice through more stalks in one swing than typically possible. Just as the two evil creature descended on her with death in their eyes the artificer swung with all her small arms could muster.

Warm blood hit her face as the arm of the nearest enemy severed with surgical precision at his mid forearm. His scream was earth shattering as he fell back on his companion and caused both to tumble to the ground. Vivianne was stunned, the predicament finally began to take its toll and caused her to hesitate. The trapped drow slowly began to regain its footing. Until the spear of Ariaatis's ugrosh came down in it's mid back. The couple had regrouped to cover the artificer in the back of the barrow.

During the fray it seemed Davian have picked up the dead enemies' quivers and now had quite a nice supply of arrows whilst the dark stains that were splattered all over Ariaatis and her weapon told her that she had claimed her own fair share of drow. Now the fighting had paused the remaining dozen drow stood in a standoff. Tiny blue flames slowly began to encircle the trio. A light that snapped Vivianne out of her stupor.

"Do not falter!" she whispered behind the other two. "They are trying to force our hand, make us attack with fear. The flames are harmless!"

It seemed the group before them knew of the deceptions failure, for a low hiss first came from one dark elf than another. Soon the whole party gave off a low roar, in an attempt to unnerve their victims. As if a band of three would not be already unnerved by facing a war party of a dozen. If the advantage was to be taken, the time would be now. An orb that had fallen from one of the many shelves during the scuffle and had rolled close to the artificer. Immediately Walsap noted that it was an orb of light, with the many properties of the sun. She had enchanted it for plant life that need more sun and heat than needed in a single day or in an off season. This was their one chance.

"Prepare your volley Davian, take note of where each of them are." The gnome whispered as she took the up the orb and activated it. She tossed it between the two before her and made ready her sickle.

Light pure and blinding erupted from the ball in the dark of night. A darkness that the drow were accustomed to, that their eyes thrived in, but the warm beams pained their sight. It was the signal. Davian did his best to remember each enemy in front of him and loosed his arrows. Screams came from the light, but the ranger kept his volley steady. Until he reached for arrow and fond nothing. The light artificial light began to wane and the trio found that the marksman had cut the drow group in half.

"Good two left for each!" Ariaatis shouted at the stunned drow and wasted no time as she rushed forth again eager to end the battle in glory.

In the flash of an eye Davian replaced his bow on his back and unsheathed twin kukaris from his belt to join his beloved. Their combined vigor brought Vivianne to her feet and into the battle as well. The targets of the other two companions interested her not for the one drow before her was meant to die by her hand. Its white locks shook as he tried to banish the daze from his eyes, but the artificer would not give him the chance. With a howl she swung her sickle upwards at the taller humanoid only to hear the twang of steel hitting steel. The drow had recovered quicker than she thought. Thankfully the larger elf didn't seem accustomed to battling smaller foes and had difficulty with his swings.

It was one of these swings when the scimitar swung too low and embedded itself into the floorboards. Then it was quick work of dispatching the foolish enemy. A movement behind her told her that she was the true fool to forget the position of all enemies in a fight. As she turned to face her destruction as the assaulting elf lurched forward suddenly with the spear tip of Ariaatis's ugrosh pierced his chest from behind. As he fell the gnome misplaced a step and became pinned under the dead drow. From her prone position she noticed the attack that saved the artificer's life had left the dwarf open to the knife another enemy drove into her spine.

"ARIAATIS!" Davian screamed, as he had witnessed the demise of his dwarven lover.

It was a distraction that cost him as blow came from the hilt of a schimitar that rendered the man unconscious. His kukaris fell from his hands and in a flash of darkness was taken out the home. The two remaining drow followed as one turned his newly scared face to spit upon the floor and knock over an oil lamp before making his exit. For the drow prided themselves on their surface raids, and reveled in the evidence of their destruction. However to have only thee take out a group of so many would be an embarrassment if the scene was found. A wild blaze would easily rectify the oversight.

"Kronnym!" It was the only word the gnome heard from the drow that entire nigh and she glanced to see the fire starter's response, it was most certainly his name.

Flames began to spread quickly in the home as Vivianne struggled to free herself. A groan near her came from a familiar face as Araatis crawled towards the gnome with the strength she had left. Black smoke threatened to engulf the two, but the dwarf's stubborn bid for life kept her strong. From her belly she rolled the body off the artificer and coughed a bit of blood as she tried to speak.

"Please…take him from my belly…he must live." Roar of the flames and the nobledwarf's rapy breath made it difficult to hear but Walsap knew what she intended.

The sickle would not do for such a procedure not that she had much experience, but she cast it aside none the less Orange fire illuminated the dark and shined off one of Davian's fallen kukaris. A ranger would most certainly keep them sharp. It would have to do, she thought as she took up the curved weapon.

* * *

The inferno had took everything besides what the small gnome had with her in the snow. A ranger's curved knife that was stuffed into her belt, a dwarven axe spear that hung heavily in her left arm, and a crying mul baby that was wrapped in firs from his dead mother. All three would now serve to remind her of the terrible evening in many a sleepless night to follow she was sure of it. Except as the baby continued to cry in the cold Vivianne knew he was her top priority. So in the biting chill with axe and baby in hand she picked a direction on the dark road and hastily made her way towards the small neighboring town of Dhedluk. All the while praying that she would not run into Kronnym or any other blood thirsty dark elves.


	2. Chapter 2 - Forced

Much love goes out to EmZaWheezy, thank sfor the follow!

-Chapter 2-

Forced

Soft notes from a harp echoed through the naturally resonating labyrinthine halls of the mazelike colony as many large humanoids came and went. It was designed as such so that the songs could be heard throughout the caverns. Calm minds needed to be kept among minotaurs and the soft music was meant to help. Though many found the constant noise to be more troublesome than soothing. Popular opinion considered it another test of their discipline, as it gave them strength against the monster that most thought dwelled within the entire race.

In most of the history of the colony the minotaurs were indeed persecuted for their similarity to their feral cousins scattered throughout Abeir-Toril. The walls of the labyrinth were carved with the story of its people. Distant memory told them they were a nomadic tribe that found their homes shunned from other races in grasslands and valleys, isolated from all others. Many were killed if they dared to try to seek shelter amongst people who feared their beastly appearances and the legends that went with them. Entire families of the clan turned and gave into the darkness. The dark ones would likely find shelter guarding lairs for greater creatures who sought only to exploit their natural strength and suppressed savagery.

Those who refused to give up the hope that they could achieve more, wandered the lands until the elders led them to a besieged mountain home of a dwarven empire. An alliance with the former mountain king insured the homeland was purged of the Yuan-ti that plagued it. With two civilizations pooling their efforts a home was easily made in the ruins of old. A refuge large enough to accommodate all.

The final image carved into the wall of the "bull quarter" as many called it was a giant mural that took up a vast hall. Meant to be a place of communion for all who wished it entailed the visage of dwarfs amongst minotaur, building and creating together. A true sign of the accomplished brotherhood. One boundary still separated the two races. Politics, were meant to be handled independently. Even though elders from both races sat on the dwarf royal council, traditions were still respected. Even amongst the minor differences the peace was still steadfast and strong.

* * *

At midday the entrance of the bull quarter was quite busy indeed. Little men and women came and went often besides the larger bovine like friends and associates. Many members of both races worked in either the ancient mines or the textile shops shared between the nations. Small hoof beats echoed through the hall as the little minotauress made her way amongst the larger humanoids. They were followed by the even lighter pitter patter of a dwarf child's footfalls. Many would smile as they saw the dwarf boy and some would even nod or start a warm welcome for the boy, but once the little minotaur girl came into view they all would fall silent, and the wise minotaurs bowed their heads eyes affixed to the floor.

"Come Grecian you've got to be faster than that!" The hooved girl ran through the crowd shouting in her native giant tongue.

The portly dwarf boy wiped a sweat heavy lock of ebony hair from his brow and wheezed with every step. Such was expected from the son of goldsmith. It took less effort to make the finer things in life, not so much constant pounding and shaping with heavy hammers like the blacksmiths and armorers. Most days Grecian Fabre sat next to his father or his many sisters on a work bench with tiny molding utensils carving intricate designs on jewelry. Although today was a day that Grecian had to himself, well himself and the one friend he had besides his sisters.

"Ruula…you…you've…got to…slow…down." The boy sputtered between wheezy breaths, giant of course being a common second language for the dwarfs under that particular mountain.

"I promised I'd make a fighter out of you Grecian!" A playful shout drowned out the echoed roar of the crowd and the boy's silent pleas of mercy. "You're first step is beating me to my door!"

The chase was not a short one. No, the girl's route took the duo through the bull quarter, past the shops of the horn market and onto the homes of those who were considered in the highest regard in the minotaur society. It was a good run however, and apparently Ruula thought it was in her friend's best interest to complete it. Often she would look back to find the red mass that was the first shadow of beard suck with sweat to her friends face and would let out a giggle. Expressions of passersby seemed to change with the scenery as the two friends darted through once crowed streets and into passages with less and less citizens.

Minotaurs that were held in higher regard resided in the larger and more ornate housings that lined the walls in those remote caverns. Many that passed now wore many wore their golden emblem. Lines would twist and turn in the labyrinthine style crests that separated the insignias. Some were even commissioned by the wealthy patrons to be made by Grecian's family. The mazes practically encompassed every aspect of the bull like humanoids' lives. Even Ruula's skirts were adorned with a larger version of their clan's badge. The same design that was chiseled over the entry of the home the little minotauress victoriously trotted under.

"Well you are getting faster." She admitted to her winded friend who managed to stay with her. "Last time you were still in the bull quarter by the time I made it home."

A heavy wheeze accompanied each labored waddle as Grecian came to rest under next to his dear friend. It took all he had to not double over in front of her and her distinguished household.

"I would invite you in, but it looks like you have had enough of my company for the day." The young girl suppressed a throaty laugh as the boy could only nod and wave as he slowly waddled away.

"Ye can teach me to handle a blade tomorrow…" Grecian managed to call back to her as she opened the large wooden door to her family dwelling. "And how to swing it the next!" She called back, both knowing full and well that it would take much more than a day to teach the basics of swordplay.

* * *

The first thing that came off in that foyer was the gold shackles of her dark curved horns. Gifts from her dear friend after their families' first meeting. They were given as symbol of good faith and patronage, but Ruula cherished them as a token of true friendship. A gold link chain strung between the pieces and she often used it to rest the piece on the back of her neck, the weight of the fetters allowed them to hang just below her collar bone.

As she went about slinging the gold around her neck, she noticed a different air to her home. It was thick, like many beings had been hastily moving about yet the home seemed still. There were no signs of the twin dwarf brothers that served her family. Nor where her mother or father present in the grand hall the ballooned out from the entryway. No unfamiliar musk passed her keen snout, so Ruula held back on jumping to any conclusions.

It was then the girl saw that game for what it was, one that had started upon her seventh birthday nearly three months before. Once or twice a tenday Rulla would find her home seemingly empty. It was in fact a test, one to measure a gift that was bestowed to each member of the Stonehorn line. Though Rulla was still contesting on whether it was indeed a gift or a bane. Like those other days, she closed her eyes and slowly inhaled though her brown snout. A feeling of numbness soon crept over her and she felt an eye she did not possess physically leave her body. It looked back briefly to regard the thick hazel colored fur that covered it host, its only blemish being the pure white birth mark that ringed around her muzzle just before her black leathery nose. If her eyelids were open it would also see the golden hue they carried that matched the caps dangling from her neck.

Though her third eye swiftly moved on from room to room searching. Until it found its intended quarry, to which it just as quickly returned to Ruula. The trance left her soon after and she swiftly moved to the servant's kitchen, but held her ground just outside the open entrance for she had seen all that laid beyond. After a few tense moments the girl readied herself for what was to come and turned the corner to the room.

"Found you." Ruula stated flatly as Trenda and Jurlen Stonehorn lounged in ornate wooden chairs with their servants Keelan and Freeg huddled close, a travel bag close to each.

"You have!" Jurlen shouted exuberantly to his wife and everyone else in the room. A long pipe hung unlit from his lips for he probably feared the smoke would give away their location to his daughter. "She can see things with her mind, just like her brothers."

Both parents traded smug looks as the massive minotaur lit his the pipe and stood to move to his wife. His pure brown fur rippled with excellent muscular structure in the faire light that illuminated the room. A large hand patted his wife's snow white shoulder, but neither attempted to hide the baggage that had been collected beside them. It was clear that all Rulla's belongings had already been packed away for what was to come.

"Just like her mother." Trenda commented proudly as she turned to her head towards the dwarven brothers and nodded her ivory horned head. The duo recognized the gesture and began the task of moving to luggage out of the room.

Rulla had stepped aside as the blond bearded young dwarves each took armfuls of baggage past her into the hallway and out of the home. Neither said anything, but both held of look of silent lament for they knew how their patron's daughter had feared this very day.

"You Rulla, will make a fine addition to the Shadowhoof clan. Your dowry has already been paid!" Jurlen roared with vigor, as if he had won a haggling watch with a particular stubborn trader. "Your trip to the Vast should be uneventful."

Rulla, who had moved further into the room but still took refuge leaning against the far wall, perked up her ears at this. She indeed had known of her fate, one that had befallen her brothers before her. A life of families bidding for her like awesome sort of slave. Then an unwanted marriage to an unknown husband for the hope of producing a psionic child into the highest bidder's family. Now she knew where her family intended to send her. A new home on the other side of the continent they resided on.

"The Vast!" Her voice held an aggression her family had never heard, such a tone was never heard from their usually dutiful daughter. "So now that I have been sold I am to be put as far from hone as possible?"

Silence held the air then, looks of absolute shock fell on the bull faces of

Rulla's parents. It had been so easy rearing the young minotauress, never a harsh word in rebellion had ever been spoken. She had known her place since her fist day she had been brought into the world, yet a nerve seemed to have been struck. Her complacency with the subject had obviously ended. Shock turned to ire in her father, evident by his bushy brow furrowing above is silvery saucer like eyes.

"Yes! The Vast! You will be given to a male of another clan much like your mother was given to me!" Words of quick anger fell from the outraged father. How dare his daughter doubt her family's tradition, to hold her race back from advancing themselves?

"And how am I ever to visit?! Am I just to resign myself to this…this…exile?" Her own usually soft spoken voice boomed with a fury much like her father's, and in their native giant tongue the argument seemed much fiercer.

"What is this Rulla?" Now it was her mother's turn to interrupt. "You knew what was coming, what your fate would be. You knew and nothing, not even a defiant whisper. Now this outburst." She had gotten up as well now and had joined the duo in the fray.

"I should never have allowed you to see my gift, I should have…" Rulla never was allowed to finish, for her father grasped one of her horns and nearly took her off her hooves as he wrenched it upward with a tug of his giant hand.

"Allowed!? Is it not your family's duty to share your gifts with all our kind?" Rulla's tiny hands where on her father's trying withal her might to loosen his hold, but it only enraged the minotaur.

Her neck twisted at a weird angle during the struggle, she had never felt such pain. Instead releasing his grip Jurlen grasped is daughter's other budding horn and tugged them in separate directions. It took all her strength to keep her father from pulling them from her skull, but it wasn't long until her mother reached in to try and pry at her husband's clenched digits.

"Would you have us be as uncultured as farm oxen?" There was a slight froth that began to build around the Jurlen's lips as his rage increased. "Shall we become the brainless guards of Beholder treasure would we become savages if because you wish it!?"

There was a gloss over the patriarch's eyes now, his gaze was cold and terrifying. The mother daughter team where no match for the enraged humanoid. Small shuffling could be heard of dwarven feet as the dwarf brothers returned for their luggage run to see the frightening struggle. The young mistress was clearly in and the twins acted without thought as they simultaneously leaped onto their patron as well. Young horns can only take so much however and Rulla's slowly, painfully began to splinter.

Tears welled in the young calf's eyes, as blood began to trickle through the cracks in he tend horns. The pain brought up a rage in herself, and she too began to feel herself slipping. A jumble of nonsensical thoughts threatened to overcome her and drive out her sensibility. Cleary blinked in her mind then as her mental eye opened her mind once more. It blinked furiously to clear the beast like thoughts that anger and pain had brought on and in a last ditch effort showed Rulla exactly what she needed, a way out.

Rulla shook her head in her father's grasp, her battle plan was mapped and now was the time. Her small frame deceptively increased with dead weight and even with another minotaur and two dwarfs on him Jurlen leaned forward with the unexpected shift. The girl's hooves left the ground and reared under her curling with the strength of tiny muscles ready to strike. As soon as her father's chin came into view Rulla unleashed her attack. Both hooves connected with a crack and Jurlen's head twisted back instantly from the whiplash. Two snaps rang though the halls then, for the massive minotaur never relinquished his grip on his daughter's already cracked horns and the added backward force served them mid stock from her skull.

Jurlen's cataleptic form continued his backward decent and managed to pin the trio that seemingly had succeeded in separating the deranged father from his daughter. An inhuman shriek of pain erupted from Rulla's throat as her hands went to bloody nubs that used to be her horns. The rage began to bubble again as she spied the tips of her ruined appendages still in her her father's massive hands.

"Rulla?" It was her mother's voice that broke through the darkness. She had freed herself from under husband and had slowly began making her way over to her daughter.

Trenda's outstretched hand glowed blue as it came closer to the halo like light that hoved above Rulla's splintered horns. Her eyes matched her daughters now as she looked upon her child. Blood had stained what base remained of her horns as it flowed down the girl's forehead and onto the rest of her bovine like face. I had speckled numerous parts of Rulla and torn dress barely covered her. Trenda needed to hold then like she did when she was younger and still needed her mother, but right then as Rulla tenderly grasped the air used to accompany her horns she realized something. Rulla didn't need any of them.

Mighty was the wail that exploded from the young minotauress as she instinctively grasped at her friend's now nearly crimson clasps still around her neck and swung them with all her fury. The opposite shackle struck her bewildered mother into the cheek and bought Rulla the time she needed as she scuttled to find the floor under hooved feet. Once she was upright nothing slowed her escape from that horrid place. Not the heavy stone doors of her home or the crowds that filled the halls of the bull quarter or even the confused guardsmen that stood watch of the entrance of the mountain lair. All watched as the little urchin ran screaming into the wilds of Faerûn.

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I am more than appreciative for the support I have received for my return to writing and this story please I would be grateful to readers to leave reviews no matter how short it is a huge help. Thank you all!


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